It has been a year since I last came here. I have thought about writing many times, but the actual motivation to post always dissipated quickly. I only just now feel like I may be emerging from a rather fallow chapter of life. Most days felt persistently gray, but recently the color has occasionally shown itself again. I can’t say this is entirely because of this loss or my journey through grief, but without a doubt it has made it harder.
I stand at a threshold again. Life is about to rapidly change once more, but this time (and maybe for the first time ever) I desperately want to lean into the change and leave this present behind. There’s some guilt in that. Have I willed away precious days I should have properly appreciated? Have I lived or just existed?
Three years later, I am still not sure how to treat this day. I didn’t go to work. But this year no one offered to spend time with me, either. Every year, fewer and fewer people remember the gravity of this date. It’s a painful, quiet reminder that I carry this burden with very few others, and someday, maybe just alone. Even if every person I knew remembered, though, it wouldn’t fill the void. The only person I want to hear from is silent. She hasn’t been here for three years of funny stories, bad news, exciting updates, and random musings. I cling to the last time she sent me a flurry of birthday gifs on Messenger or try to extrapolate what she would think about current events based on conversations from the past.
I miss my little sister. On many days it doesn’t consume me, but on days like today, I ache with the unanswerable wish to know who she would be in 2026. It’s never going to be “okay” that she isn’t here.
Unmoored Sister 